HighSpeed Insanity
by UltimatePhantomQueen
Summary: What if Ult. XMen 67 happened differently? Includes OCs, if you don't like that story, don't read. If you do read, plz R&R! Thxx  Rated for language.


Rewrite of another old fanfic that I wrote. It's just a fun little oneshot that's got nothing to do much with my other story (same OCs, though).

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Kurt Wagner and Piotr Rasputin sat on the hood of the rented car. It was evening. They were in the parking lot of Westchester General Hospital, just returning from their very… interesting visit to the hospital to see Ali.

"You got the double cheeseburger, yes?" Piotr asked. "I can't remember. I'm pretty sure I got the one with the bacon, though…"

"Uh, maybe ve should just go back to the mansion," Kurt replied.

"You are kidding, yes?" Piotr asked in disbelief. "You would want to spoil this beautiful night? It's so peaceful out here, quiet…"

That made Kurt feel odd. "Yeah, I know, it's just—I had some reading I vanted to do…"

"I don't _like_ you, y'know," Piotr said exasperatingly.

"Vhat?!" Kurt whirled around to face Pete, a bit shocked and surprised.

"Hey! Hey, you!"

Two girls were yelling at them, running towards them. The two X-Men raised their eyebrows at their odd apparel. One girl (the one doing all the yelling) had shocking cerulean hair and was dressed in a punk-styled outfit, made up of blue-and-black pieces of clothing, fishnet, and chunky black combat boots. The other one was dressed similarly, except she was in pink and looked tacky in a cute way than punkish. Blue-haired was tall; her friend was almost a head and a half shorter than her.

"We need to borrow your car!" Blue-haired said. Despite now being less than a foot away from them, she was still yelling in a very impatient manner.

"Th-this isn't our car," Piotr tried to explain. "And anyway, who—"

"FBI," said the petite pink-haired girl. She shoved a wallet in Piotr's face. He had to move back to read it clearly…

Kurt glanced at it. It was authentic, all right. "Federal Bureau of Investigation…" all that jazz. Underneath was an I.D. "Marly Addison…14…D.O.B…P.O.B.…" etcetera.

Marly Addison's age puzzled Kurt. How'd you get a job with the FBI if you were still a kid?

Marly put the wallet back into her hoodie pocket. "We _really_ need to borrow your—"

Gunshots rang out. Marly screamed, Piotr turned metal; Kurt was ready to teleport—

The bullets ricocheted off a filmy-looking lavender-swirl-colored force field, coming from Blue-haired.

"That's why we need…" she said, taking out a handgun of her own--_"Your"_—_BANG_—_"fucking"_—_BANG_—_"car!"_ _BANG-BANG-BANG!_

She was shooting at—and missing—at a bright red car. Kurt saw who had been shooting at them—a guy in a baseball cap.

Piotr handed the girls the keys, understanding what was going on. Kurt was still just a tad bit puzzled. "Vas ist—"

"That man killed two police officers, and gave another innocent man an acid bath!" Blue-haired explained.

Acid bath. Doesn't sound too cheery, does it?

The car unlocked. The blue girl got into the driver's seat and started the engine.

"Get in," Marly said briefly to Kurt and Piotr.

"Wha—vwhy?" Kurt asked.

"Because," she said. "It won't look like theft if the owners of the car are with us."

"But it's a rental," Piotr said. "And anyway, wouldn't that be taking hostages—"

She punched him in the face. Hard.

By then, Kurt's eyes were as wide as saucers. He teleported into the car.

"Now, if you don't get in the car," Marly was saying, "you will be incapable of having children, courtesy of moi."

Ouch.

Piotr got in the car.

Kurt would've laughed if he wasn't so confused. Big, strong muscle-man Colossus stumbles—not to mention gets punched in the face by—to a little pink-haired girl? Unbelievable. (Of course, laughing and making fun of him would be hypocrisy; Kurt was just as terrified of the two.)

And then—he swore he heard the combat boot's _THUMP_—the car accelerated backwards—made a harsh turn—and sped forward.

It was like flying, only not as fun. So dizzying—sharp turns—arguments (about driving properly)—constant little verbal spars between Paige (Blue-hair's name, Kurt learned from the arguments) and Piotr (she spoke fluent Russian, he learned as well).

And to sum it all up, crazy baseball cap guy was _still_ shooting at them.

He was almost getting used to this. Adrenaline and his own heartbeat pumping in his ears nearly blocked out the yelling, the road was pretty smooth—

Good. He jinxed it by fucking _thinking_ about it. Now Kurt was screaming along as they all made occasional jumps, courtesy of uneven potholes and bumps. Wonderful.

There was a short moment where the road was smooth. They were just speeding along—however, not exactly peacefully; Paige and Marly were being loud again—at some insane speed.

Tires screeching, they suddenly stopped. Everyone jerked forward, as an effect—Kurt banged his face against the seat in front of him.

"Holy _fuck_!" Paige cursed. "Whit, we're on the wrong side of the fuckin' highway!"

Cars were speeding towards them, swerving—dangerously—away at the last second.

Marly tried to show her badge and I.D. to the passing cars, but the drivers only honked and made rude remarks.

They began driving again. This time it was more dizzying and nauseating—Paige was making short jerking turns and swerves—everything began to blur a bit—Kurt's eyes and mind were too fucking dizzy to take in anything—heart pounding, screaming—

Suddenly everything was all white and ghostly. All calm and pale for a split second—

They were right in front of a truck—and they literally phased through it—Kurt could see the driver's terrified face before phased right through.

"Oh my fucking God—!" Marly was yelling.

Kurt looked out the window. "Mein Gott," he muttered. The cars, the highway, the people, everything was getting smaller and smaller…

The car was midair, still all intangible and ghostly. They sped forward, even faster—if humanly possible—than before. (Maybe it was humanly possible; they were temporarily intangible and probably lighter than air.)

On the highway, people were pointing and staring in awe. Ghosts were driving a flying ghost car. (Paige just _knew_ that this would be tomorrow's biggest, boldest headline. Shit.)

The highway blurred away. Paige gradually slowed down—although not too much—and they saw the red car drive into some kind of warehouse—

"Oh, shit," Paige said suddenly. Her ghostly white face looked like she was about to faint—

And everything went solid again. It turned out it was Paige's ability that turned everyone and everything ghostly.

However, gravity was still gravity. They fell. Screaming, cursing, feeling nauseous—insides flipping around, hearts still pounding—dizzier than ever—it was falling from freakin'_ midair,_ dammit—

With a spectacular crashing noise, they landed. Or rather, crashed—upside down.

Kurt thought—and thanked God—for the unnatural miracle that prevented him and Piotr from not falling on their heads and dying. Then he remembered the seat belts were on, and he still thanked God for that, too.

Paige and Marly had not been so lucky. With great difficulty, they were sort of lying on the ceiling, groaning in pain.

"You overexerted your friggin' power!" Marly was yelling. "Now you're gonna be too dizzy and stuff to kick his ass!"

"I'm never too tired to kick some ass!" Paige argued.

She created some sort of solid light field around the car (the same swirly lavender stuff) and flipped it right side up. The blood that had rushed to Kurt's head—from being upside down—left.

"Your keys," Paige said, tossing them the car keys. Kurt caught them.

To their surprise, she blew the door open—it freaking fell to the ground.

"_Danke_!" she yelled, and hopped out. Marly did the same. Piotr and Kurt were left in the back seat, still pretty dazed. Was all of that real?

They were just enjoying (for the most part) a calm peaceful evening.

Two underage, most likely mutant, and seemingly insane FBI officers took them hostage and borrowed—not to mention destroyed—their car.

They drove around town at some insane speed.

They even temporarily turned into _ghosts_ and _flew_.

Sounds crazy, doesn't? Kurt probably would have believed it was some crazy daydream—if the car hadn't been ripped apart as proof. The windshield was shattered by a wayward bullet (it didn't actually hit anyone; not counting ricocheting off Piotr's metal forehead and crashing the other window), the smashed window that was just explained, and the door by the driver's seat had broken off.

"I wonder, my friend," Piotr said suddenly, "what we're to tell the rental company."

.:: The Next Day ::.

"Fury!"

"Yes, General Ross?"

The general shoved a newspaper in Colonel Nick Fury's face. "What. Is. The meaning. Of. _This_?"

**"THE SUPERNATURAL IN WESTCHESTER! GHOSTS SEEN IN A FLYING GHOST CAR"**

_Damn you, Paige._

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I hope it was as funny as _I_ thought it was. Um, to anyone who actually reads my other story, don't worry, I haven't given up on that. And if you've given up on me, that's all right, too.

Hope ya like


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